


Maybe I Won't Call Her

by LilianaSnow



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fisting, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Eventual Relationships, First Time Blow Jobs, Fisting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fondling, Friends With Benefits, From Sex to Love, Fuckbuddies, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Pairings, Name-Calling, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Riding, Rimming, Road Trips, Rough Body Play, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Smut, Touching, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-16 17:19:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15442005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilianaSnow/pseuds/LilianaSnow
Summary: After Anna dumped Patrick, both Andy and Pete are out to help him. However, it's a bit more than they bargained for.





	Maybe I Won't Call Her

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot I had this and it was going to be deleted tomorrow, so...

Patrick cried. It was raw and heartbreaking, and Andy wanted to kill Anna. Andy wanted to find her, to crush her and eat out her heart and not even care that it was very not vegan and very not edge.

He wanted Patrick to be happy and safe and shy and ready to go onstage and bicker annoyingly with Pete. He wanted to watch him beat Joe yet again at the same old game he'd asked them to stop fighting about. He wanted to hold Patrick and make him all better.

That last one was the only thing he could do. So he did.

Andy held Patrick close, humming softly and glaring when Pete tried to trade positions with him. Andy held Patrick and finally, finally, when they reached a hotel, Andy offered to let Patrick take it out on him. Hopefully in a sexual way. Hate sex, if you will.

Andy almost regretted it.

Patrick pushed him onto his knees and told him to suck. Andy listened, heard the authorative younger telling him what a slut he was as he started unbuckling his belt.

It was huge, and Andy gulped at the sight of it. However, this was about Patrick, not Andy. It was about Patrick showing him that he _was_ in control of something.

He pushed his doubts away and put his lips on the tip.

"You are a filthy little cock whore, Andy," Patrick whispered. "I didn't know you liked this so much. Must be a gay thing. I've never gotten this eagerness with a girl."

Andy choked as the thing met with the back of his throat, and Patrick held him still by his hair. Starry eyes met with silver ones, and Andy gulped again.

"You do that some more, you dirty cunt. I thought you didn't like dick. I guess you've been starved of this too long."

Patrick moved his hips, cantering them quickly and sharply. Andy choked three times, whimpering while tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Patrick was very much not usually like this.

When Patrick finally stopped ramming into his throat, he was pushed into the bed. At first, Andy had no idea what was going on. He had such a sore throat he couldn't speak, and now one of his best friends was pulling his pants down so roughly, it hurt.

Something hot and wet ran over his ass hole, sending shivers through Andy's body. It was rough and urgent, lapping around and pushing in. It felt good at first, and Andy moaned slightly, whimpering after due to the pain in his throat. He gripped the sheet tightly as he could. Patrick continued opening him up. It felt like he was being split apart. He started shifting his hips, burying his face in shame.

After what felt like hours, Patrick stopped licking. He stood and lined up, a hand going up to stroke Andy's cheek from behind.

"I want to hear your scream, slut. I want you to let the whole world know how much you love it when I hurt you." He tightened his fist on Andy's shoulder, then pushed in and began fucking into him with abandon.

Andy sobbed into the sheets, feeling Patrick destroy him from the inside out. He felt like Patrick was hammering a hole into his spine. There was no rhythm; no pacing; just pain. It was almost enough to kill him.

Then he moaned, starting to enjoy this. Patrick had shifted his hips and started breaking into Andy's prostate. There were bruises inside of him and on him, and he was being fucked into pieces. He decided that this would be the day he died and laid down to take it. After all, he had literally asked for it.

Andy wasn't ready when Patrick started filling him up. He could feel the wildness of Patrick's hips getting out of hand, choking back tears. His ass felt pure heat hitting him and staining every piece of his digestive tract. He felt filthy and used, just how he had asked Patrick to make him feel. He kept crying while Patrick pulled out, oversensitive and throbbing.

Patrick flipped him over and lay next to him, slowly jerking Andy off. Andy looked up at him, eyes swimming.

"Shhh, it's okay, Andy," Patrick whispered kindly, rubbing his hips. "You'll be okay. I promise." Patrick gently kissed Andy, and that was what did it. Andy finished, making a huge mess of himself and Patrick.

Andy closed his eyes while Patrick cleaned him up. He fell asleep to a cadence of whispers and praises falling from the same lips that had opened him up to lead him toward death.

* * *

After the next concert, Pete saw Patrick staring at the floor. Andy had been sore all week, but he had decided that he wanted to stay near Patrick. In an overheard conversation, Pete knew Andy had informed him, "I felt incredibly vulnerable, but that was the best, most intense orgasm I have ever felt. If you need to take it out on me again,  _go right the fuck ahead. Please."_

Now, with Andy off doing something with Joe, Pete wanted a piece of it. Pete wanted to know what Andy had been so excited to try again.

"Patrick. Andy's off with Joe."

"I know. We don't have to go yet- we have a day before we have to leave."

"Yes. But I want you to know... You can come to me for anything." He made his features go soft and innocent, turning to 'accidentally' sit on Patrick's lap.

"You might regret it. Get off."

Pete shook his head. "I won't regret it."

"Are you sure, Peter?" Patrick asked, voice dark and deep.

Pete felt his already tight jeans get even tighter. He nodded and leaned back. "You could do whatever you wanted and I wouldn't regret whatever it was that sparked it."

Pete swallowed those words, and much, much more.

They got into their room, and Patrick shoved Pete roughly onto one of the beds.

 "Listen, whore, you are _mine_ now. You are mine to do as I please to, for as long as I want to. So accept that. Or tell me how vulnerable you feel."

Patrick ripped his jeans off, then rubbed him through his briefs. Pete moaned as Patrick worked him, then pulled down the underwear with his teeth. Patrick gave him a handjob that Pete swore was from Heaven itself, and he caught all of the cum in his hand and on his fingers.

Pete watched him curiously, as Patrick then dipped his filthy hand toward Pete's backside. Pete gasped in surprise when he felt his own cum being used to scissor him open. Patrick watched him as he fingered him, loosening his ass for Patrick's enjoyment. He tried to pull away, but Patrick held him down.

"Ohhh... Patrick stop... Please, I need... I need time... I'll go again soon... Ow... Owww... Please!" Pete begged, whimpering. He was ready for Patrick to stop fondling him.

"Are you crying, you dirty ho? It's so hot to see your tears." Patrick licked his oversensitivity, then pulled his hand away. "So I'll give you a choice. What am I going to do to you first? Fisting? Or giving you a ride?"

"What? Patrick, please..."

"Answer me, cockslut."

"I... I... Patrick just..."

"Too late." Patrick slid his fingers back into Pete, watching him hiss and writhe underneath. Pete was so beautiful, all fucked out and open. Even before he'd been fucked.

Patrick's hand was in to the heel, and Pete realized exactly what Patrick was doing. It was too wide, too much, it would hurt too much to go in. But it did go in.

Pete bit his hand to keep from screaming. The sensation was overwhelming, and Pete felt entirely too alive. He moaned, deep and gutteral, as Patrick moved his hand inside of him. He clenched and shifted. He wouldn't be walking anytime soon.

Patrick started kissing his way up Pete's abdomen. Pete's stomach was sore from the exersion and the slight stretch Patrick's fist created. When he reached Pete's jaw, he left a small nip.

"You're doing great, Pete. You look so pretty, taking my fist with no complaints. Like this is how you belong."

Pete nodded, tears streaming. He did regret this. But Patrick was in his element, and Pete felt very much on display for someone who loved to see him. Pete couldn't do this, but he wanted to.

Patrick moved his hand more, keeping his hand there for what felt like two days to Pete but was more like 20 minutes. That was enough time for Pete to climax one more time.

Patrick pulled his hand out during the aftershock, gently holding Pete's hips down. Pete moaned and trembled. His entire body shook with anticipation, pain, and pleasure. He cried out.

"P-Patrick..."

"You're doing so well. You really are, baby." Patrick had decided to be a little easier with the words, because Pete seemed to need some encouragement. "I'm proud of you."

Pete moaned, shifting so Patrick's fingers scraped his prostate as he finished removing his hand. He tilted his head back, breath catching in his throat.

Patrick knelt on the bed, holding Pete's leg down on and lifting the other one over his shoulder. Pete grabbed the sheets, curling them in his fists, while Patrick slowly licked his way back down to Pete's entrance. "You beautiful slut. You look so pretty, so perfectly capable. You want me inside you, don't you?"

Pete moaned at the feeling of Patrick's tongue, eyes rolling back in his head. He was filthy and worth only what Patrick thought he was, and Patrick was giving him pain in the guise of pleasure. As Patrick licked around the rim, Pete felt himself hardening again. It was the third time. He screamed and arched his back, trying to fuck himself on Patrick's wet tongue. Patrick gripped his hip tightly, looking up at Pete.

Patrick ran his hand down to Pete's aching cock, brushing over his tip and twisting his wrist easily. As he fucked Pete with his tongue, he relished the whimpers and pleas falling from his friend's mouth.

"You look so pretty, Pete," Patrick whispered, pulling back. "So fuckable. And you taste delicious. You're so tight, have you ever had anyone fuck you before, hm?" He dipped his tongue back into Pete, drawing more starving moans from the elder.

"N-No, Patrick, I've never been fucked- oh god, please Patrick... H-Have... Have mercy, just fuck me... Please, oh god!" Pete threw his head back, sobbing from pleasure and moaning whorishly while Patrick pulled the third orgasm from his body.

Patrick got up onto the bed. "As you wish, pretty boy."

Pete barely registered it as Patrick picked him up and lay on his back, smiling up at Pete. He found himself being positioned to sink down and ride his cock, and he took a minute to catch his breath.

Once Pete was breathing, he lowered himself onto Patrick. The second the tip was touching him, his eyes screwed up and his mouth fell slack, head tipping back. His hair was messy, ruined by the wildness of the sex. Pete kept pushing himself down, whimpering when he had his ass flat against Patrick. It hurt so much, felt so good, and Patrick was making him _his._  Pete was sure he'd made heaven.

After taking a moment to adjust, Pete started rocking his hips shakily. He shifted and used Patrick's cock for his own pleasure, moving so that every inch of him was totally fucked. Pete moaned out Patrick's name, lifting himself up and then sinking back down. He moved slowly, then quickly, grabbing Patrick's shoulder and hip for balance.

Patrick bucked up a little to watch Pete gasp, but got a little more than that. Pete hissed out a "Thank you, sir," tears sliding out of his eyes. "I deserve this, sir. I'm your little slut." Pete sighed his way back down, begging for Patrick to keep it up, to keep hurting him.

Pete kept fucking himself on Patrick for a good twenty minutes, during which he climaxed again twice. Then Patrick grabbed his hips and flipped them over.

"I'll hurt you, if that's what you want, Pete," Patrick whispered.

"Ohhh, please, Patrick, please," Pete begged.

Patrick bent down and bit his shoulder, hard, rocketing his hips into Pete's. He felt the trembling bassist grabbing at his back, moaning and sobbing out for more. Patrick pinned down one of his legs, lifting the other over his shoulder.

He slipped deeper into his friend, licking and kissing the bite he had left. Pete screeched and held onto him tighter, eyes screwing up perfectly. Patrick continued to move, feeling the tension leave both of them. He watched and felt Pete's every shuddering breath and greedy moan. It was only a little while later that he 

Pete climaxed with him, and Patrick saw a myriad of oranges, reds, and yellows speckled with white and pink as Pete stuttered, falling limp below him.

Patrick rode the aftershock, then gingerly pulled himself off of Pete. Pete whimpered and looked up at him.

"P-Patrick?"

"Sh, it's okay, Pete." Patrick kissed him gently. "I'm going to get something to clean you up with, okay?"

Patrick waited to see a nod, then left. A few minutes later, he brought back a warm washcloth. He gently wiped it over the oversensitive older man.

Pete winced and looked up at him, soft smile on his lips. "That was intense..."

"I know." He tossed the washcloth away, in favor of kissing all of the bruises he had left on him. "Did you like it?"

Pete was shocked. His head was fuzzy and warm; he'd had his brains fucked into next year; and now, his best friend was cleaning him up. "I did. I feel weird now. Like I'm on drugs... What happened?"

Patrick kissed the bite mark. "Subspace. You're high on oxytocin, endorphins, and adreneleine. It's my job now to make it easier to come back down."

He started rubbing his legs and muscles. "You did so well. I'm proud of you, you were amazing, Peter panda," he whispered. "I love you." He was gentle, bringing him water, food, and singing him softly to sleep.

* * *

Pete and Andy both started talking about what Patrick had done to them, sharing the experience only with each other. It wasn't normal, for either of them, but it was just so hard to understand.

"He nearly killed me, but he was so sweet after," Andy told him. "Best orgasm of my life. Don't see why Anna would cheat."

"He gave me six. In a row. I swear I saw God," Pete whispered, mind replaying it. "It hurt like hell but it was amazing. And yeah, he helped me out after. He's perfect."

"Six? How in the hell did you survive that?"

"I don't know, but he left, like, twenty bruises and kissed all of them."

"Damn." Andy shook his head.

They both took shaky breaths, then looked up at each other. They were scared- they had both been hurt, by someone they both cared about, and loved every second of it. Pete was nursing bites and bruises. Andy's voice- usually a sweet, high-pitched sound- was deep, hoarse, and scratchy.

Patrick had pushed them both to the limit, stopping just before it was too much. He had done it perfectly, giving what they needed and wanted and taking everything they could give. They felt lucky he had known how to do that, but they were scared.

"I love the intensity, Andy, but you can have him if you want. It was just to close a call, even for me," Pete whispered, eyes soft and worried. "I feel like he'd hurt me."

"Pete, you know I wouldn't," Patrick's voice said softly. "I might not have seemed like it, but I was paying attention to both of you. I was watching to make sure I didn't hurt you. I can see through the best poker faces, when it comes to this."

"P-Patrick, I-"

"It's okay. You're both fine. I just want you to know I'd never hurt you." He hugged them both. "And it's okay if neither of you want to do that again, I don't mind. As long as you're happy and safe. I won't push you like that."

They looked at him, seeing the sincerity and concern in his eyes. They knew he was okay with it.

"Actually, I think what scared me was that I didn't really understand it, or what you were doing," Andy told him softly. "I think maybe I just needed to know."

Patrick nodded. "Okay. Then I can explain it."

* * *

As it turned out, once Andy knew more about it, he was more than comfortable with Patrick abusing his body. Over the rest of tour, anything that hit Patrick especially hard had Andy offering himself up for Patrick's more... Sinister desires. It was always more than worth the pain.

Andy realized that he loved being used one Monday morning. They had been criticized harshly the Sunday before, which went straight to Patrick's head. They had spent the night apart, but first thing in the morning Patrick walked into Andy's room.

Patrick had tied Andy to the headboard and spread his legs. He left more bruises than either cared to count, and left Andy teetering on the edge for three hours. The older was reduced to nothing but a hole, and when Patrick finally let him cum, Andy passed out. When he woke up, Patrick was washing him and kissing his bruises. His heart fluttered at the sight.

* * *

 

After tour ended, Andy began researching for himself. He found himself being dominated nearly every Friday, trying new things. He realized he had an affinity for pain. He liked feeling like he belonged to someone else.

Only problem was, he didn't belong to anyone else. He didn't have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend. Patrick wasn't in any need of him now that he was back home. He didn't feel comfortable asking if maybe Patrick was interested in him.

Andy realized that Patrick was who he really wanted when he was taking a bath after a particularly hard night. He had asked the dom to go home that morning, because he was no help whatsoever and Andy needed some time to actually recover.

Andy lay in the bath with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths. He found himself mentally going over the safety checklist Patrick had asked him to keep in mind if he decided to get an actual dom after the tour.

 _Is he or she mindful of your limits?_ No. That guy had hit bruises, and Andy had discovered a couple weeks into whatever it was with Patrick that if he had a bruise, it was too sensitive to hit. Even squeezing them was too painful sometimes, which Patrick had immediately noticed. Andy had also gotten to the point of needing to safeword multiple times, and the guy he'd brought home had just ignored it.

 _Do they ask you for a safeword or give you one? If not, do they listen if you tell the_ _m no or to stop?_ Andy hadn't been given a safeword, which Patrick had warned might be forgotten about by either a new dom or someone who just got out of a relationship. However, when Andy had asked him to stop, the guy had ignored him. When Andy had told him no, he couldn't go again, the guy had scoffed at him and called him names.

 _Is their aftercare thoughtful, or do they at least give a_ _n honest attempt at it?_ No, not even close. Andy had woken up crying and gotten ignored. When Andy asked for some sort of aftercare, he was told that he hadn't submitted properly enough for aftercare.

 _Did they try to pleasure you or torture you?_ Andy had no words for it. The short answer was that Andy had been given no satisfaction whatsoever, and the man seemed to get off on overstaying his welcome.

_If the answer to any of these is no, kick them out and never let them in again. These people aren't doms or cuckholders, they're abusers. Kick them out and block them on all social media, including their phone number.Then go over your aftercare checklist, and do what you can on your own until you've regained enough mental strength to call me. I'll come over and take care of you. Don't hesitate to pick up the phone. I promise I'll be there._

Andy sighed and stretched a little in the water. He had written a checklist for himself for what he needed after hard nights. Patrick had helped him by telling him that if helped, it was necessary. Nothing was too small to be considered aftercare, nothing was too large to be considered necessity after safewording. It all came down to Andy.

**Slow, soapy, warm bath. Preferably with the dom washing him or massaging him, but sitting there and offering praise or company is acceptable too.**

**Cuddles and kisses. Light kisses. On wherever it hurts the most.**

**Hot breakfast snuggled up in warm pajamas, because face it cuddles are the most generous form of aftercare.**

**Lazy morning in. Working out is cool and all but a hard night needs time to recover from.**

Andy had the bath down, but he was alone. All he wanted was somebody there. He wasn't picky, but he kind of wished it was Patrick. He'd gained enough presence of mind to bring his cell phone in and leave it on the sink. He sat up straighter, rinsed off and dried his hands, and reached for the phone.

The dominant from the night before had shot him texts and calls. Andy blocked the number without responding, then opened Patrick's contact. He hovered his thumb over the call button, a little scared.

Then he realized that Patrick cared enough to make sure he was being safe. Of course he wouldn't mind being called for a little help. Not after making Andy promise to call him for help. He pressed the button and held the phone to his ear.

It rang once, then twice. He was about to hang up when Patrick answered.

"Hello?" Patrick asked groggily.

"Hey, Trick. It's Andy. Did I wake you?" Andy asked, hating how hoarse his voice was from crying.

"No. What's up?" Patrick was instantly sober. "Do you need me to come over?"

"Please? I'm in my bathroom, I just kicked someone out. It was hell, Patrick."

"Are you dressed? If not, I'll let myself in."

"I'm in the bath."

"Okay. I'l be right there."

* * *

Patrick kept true to his word. He was soon knelt on the floor by Andy, gently rubbing his shoulders and humming to him softly. Andy smiled up at him.

"Thanks, Trick."

"It's no problem, Andy. I'm glad you came to me for help." Patrick kissed his forehead gently. "You did well, taking care of yourself. I'm proud of you."

Andy smiled and looked at him. Patrick was a very gentle person in general, but especially when Andy needed him to be. Patrick very carefully saught out all of the sore, sensitive places and rubbed the skin there, humming and whispering praise.

Andy lay back and let Patrick do all the work. He felt himself relaxing and starting to feel better. He swore Patrick's hands were magical.

Patrick carefully washed his hair and rinsed it, smiling the entire time. Andy moaned slightly, feeling like a princess.

After Andy was cleaned and relaxed, Patrick began to towel him off. He never once hurt him when he did this- he never once took advantage of Andy's already weak mindset. He always helped build him back up, but Patrick wanted to be the person who knocked him down, too. Neither of them knew that the other wanted that.

Patrick dressed him in the softest pajamas he had before taking him into his living room. Then, the singer went to make Andy breakfast. After it was finished, he took it to the drummer and let him snuggle up on him.

Patrick hand-fed him, still offering nonstop praise and words of encouragement. Andy smiled happily, accepting the food and care. After an entire day of love and cuddles, Patrick tucked him in to bed.

In Andy's sleepy and relaxed state of mind, he leaned up and kissed him. "Stay the night?"

"Of course, Andy," Patrick whispered, laying down next to him.

* * *

In the morning, Andy woke up to the sound of Patrick's voice.

"I really do love you, Andy. You're wonderful, you're so caring. So strong. I wish I got to be the one you slept with, the one you woke up cuddling and smiling at. But you don't like me that way, so I'll settle for this. It makes you so happy. That's all I want."

Andy opened his eyes. "You're wrong. I do want all of that. If you'll give it."

Patrick smiled. "Really?"

Andy nodded. "Be my boyfriend?"

"Yes please."

* * *

Andy bit his lip, watching Patrick finish the song. The instrumental cut out before the vocals, and he loved watching him sing. However, that wasn't why he was watching. In fact, he was eagerly awaiting the song to end.

"Okay, guys," Patrick announced when the audience's enthusiasm died down a little. "We have a special announcement. As you all know, Andy and I have been dating for a very long time." Upon the crowd's murmurs and agreement, Patrick continued. "Well. We want to thank you for all of the love and support you gave us to get to this..." He held up his hand, revealing a shining ring. "We're getting married this July."


End file.
